


House Trevelyan

by ThatDamnKennedyKid



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, Family, M/M, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-01 09:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17241914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnKennedyKid/pseuds/ThatDamnKennedyKid
Summary: Vestas had met then exceeded the expectations set of him when he went to meet Dorian's parents. Faeryn had been instantly loved by Mia and her children.Now, Cullen and Dorian travel together to meet the heads of House Trevelyan, of which their lovers are the heirs.





	House Trevelyan

**Author's Note:**

> Inquisitors:  
> Faeryn and Vestas Trevelyan (first cousins)  
> Seardea Lavellan  
> Imata and Tira Cadash (sisters)  
> Atalanta Adaar (her brother, Ankaios, is not an Inquisitor)

"No, I don't have these problems." Atalanta replied, watching him panic. "Sera doesn't have family and she's already met my brother."

"I don't know what to do."

"This can't be worse than Tevinter politics." She reasoned, slouching down on the low-backed chairs favoured by Fereldans. It suited her horns and lengthening hair. 

"Perhaps, but Marchers will draw blade on you themselves in the middle of a soiree."

"And Vestas would allow you to get skewered because . . . ?"

He frowned at her. "This is serious! Marchers dislike pomp, and that's most of my identity."

"If you're so certain you're going to lose to them, then embrace that and lose with grace. That way, when the yelling starts, no one can point a finger at you."

"That's . . . actually quite sound advice. Where did you learn that?"

"Watching Ankaios meet Cassandra's uncles and cousins. If you consider yourself outmatched here, imagine his plight."

"But Cassandra hates her family."

"Vestas and Faeryn might be the heirs, but that doesn't mean they like their family any more than Cassandra."

"It comes in my line of work." She winked with a sly grin. "You'll be okay. Plus, you have Cullen to embarrass."

"True."

She slid the bottle back his way. "Another?"

"Why, I couldn't possibly." A pause. "If you insist."

* * *

"Calm down. You're making me want to punch things."

"I can't!" Cullen's hair was a lost cause, his hands threaded in it from every possible angle for the last two hours. "I'm meeting her family!"

"And?" Seardea raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"He's scared they'll hate him." Ankaios clarified, leaning against a support beam. "They're just Marchers."

"She's the heiress to the line!"

"Technically, she was disqualified once she was sent to the Circle." Imata pointed out. "That makes Vestas the heir."

"With the Circles dissolved, she might take it back." Tira replied. 

"Stop pacing!" Seardea snapped. 

"Unlikely." Ankaios continued above her. "The Trevelyans are notoriously faith-heavy. Clerics and Templars, mostly. She won't get it unless she's the favourite of the Patriarch."

"She is." Cole added from the ceiling. "He used to like her fire butterflies. He was very sad when she was gone."

Cullen stopped pacing to assess his audience, which had started with Ankaios and Seardea (on sufferance - she'd been tending her halla when he'd started ranting). "How many of you are there?"

"Atlanta's getting Dorian drunk, but pretty much everyone." Varric piped up from . . .  _somewhere_. "Maybe not Josephine."

"Vivienne wouldn't be caught dead in a stable." Ankaios chuckled. "And Cassandra wants no part of your drama."

"Fantastic." He sighed. "Any advice?"

"Just be yourself." Seardea said bitterly, unhappy at having been interrupted. 

"You're a templar yourself. You'll fit right in with her family." Ankaios reasoned. 

"Remember, too, that she's as unfamiliar with them as you." Imata remarked. "She's been in the Circle since she was twelve. You might actually receive a warmer welcome than she does."

"You should get going though." Cole said, sounding distant. "You don't have much time left to pack."

Cullen swore colourfully, immediately taking off. Faeryn wouldn't be pleased if he was late. 

* * *

Faeryn sat down next to Vestas, a glass of Marcher wine in her hand to match his. 

"How do you think they're doing?" She asked. 

"Probably poorly." He replied, clinking their glasses. 

"They've no reason to be. It doesn't really matter either way."

"To choice."

"To choice."

The cousins continued to sip their wine. 

 


End file.
